TaTa, Tony
by Oxymoronic Alliteration
Summary: Teen heartthrob Tony DiNozzo has been drafted! But before he goes off to serve his country, he's going to let one lucky fan give him a good-bye kiss...hopefully. Bye Bye Birdie crossover! Written for the NFA Community Movie Madness Challenge!
1. Chapter 1

**Teen Heartthrob Hands in His Gold Jumpsuit for Camouflage **

Those were the headlines filling the papers, much to the dismay of young women all over the country. Shouts of protest, pickets lines, and even sit-ins became a regular occurrence with young bobbysoxers crying out against the governments drafting of the man they idolized, a man whose records had been played into oblivion as they lay on their beds, clutching to their chests pictures of him which they had cut out from every teen magazine they could get their hands on. His smile was the first thing they saw when their eyes fluttered shut at night and it stayed with them deep into their dreams.

Tony DiNozzo. The name alone sent young girls (and a few women) into mass hysteria, shrieking at the top of their lungs. When he opened his mouth and sang, they'd go into cardiac arrest. And when he swiveled his hips in that oh-so-tantalizing manner…well, you were smart to keep your smelling salts nearby to draw your girl out of her love trance.

He had them eating out of the palm of his hand and he knew it. His star was rising, shooting him straight to the top. But Uncle Sam had other plans. Uncle Sam didn't care about Tony's voice or swiveling hips or unmatched popularity. Uncle Sam only cared that Tony was fit to serve his country, so drafted he was, much to the dismay of his loyal fans.

Girls wrote in, offering to go in his place. Others started petitions to stop the country from taking away their precious singer. Some of the richer girls begged their daddies to pay off the government and keep their rock n' roll hunk in the good ol' US of A. But to no avail. Uncle Sam wasn't budging on this. He wanted Tony DiNozzo, and Tony DiNozzo he got.

All across the country, mourning girls and women held hands and sang a torch song of their own:

_We love you, Tony_

_Oh, yes we do!_

_We love you, Tony_

_And we'll be true._

_When you're not near us_

_We're blue!_

_Oh, Tony, we love you!

* * *

_

**AN: **Not sure how many of you have seen _Bye, Bye, Birdie_, but this story is based on the movie musical (the Dick Van Dyke one) more so than the stage play (and if you've seen both you know they can be quite different). As per usual, I will post one chapter per day!


	2. Chapter 2

Tim sat at the open window of his office building in New York. His office—a miniscule office the size of a college dorm room—was located on the 22nd floor of the building. He sat with his chin resting atop his folded arms, looking down at the throngs of people bustling about. Didn't they know he was about to fall into bankruptcy? How could they be so concerned with their own lives when his was falling about all around him?

"Tough break, Timothy."

Ducky, his ever trustful bookkeeper, was seated behind him, going over his finances. It was a superfluous effort; Tim could probably guess what his monetary state was at the moment.

"Of all the rock and roll singers Uncle Sam could draft," Tim muttered, "they had to go and draft Tony." Tim had been working with the teen heartthrob for the past couple of years as both an agent and a songwriter, trying in vain to write Tony a hit song. So far, though, his songs had been flops. All of Tony's best songs had been written by other songwriters, leaving Tim to take a backseat. He had an inkling that the only reason Tony even stayed with him was that Tim had gotten him his big break two and a half years prior. "And I was just about to have him record the best song I've ever written," he added, picking up the sheet music for a song unfortunately entitled "The Dearest Dear that I Hold Dear." It may have been Tim's best song but, when you looked at his entire repertoire, that wasn't saying much.

"Look on the bright side, Timothy."

"What's the bright side, Ducky?"

"I haven't the foggiest idea, but I'm sure there is one."

Tim returned to his seat, looking out at the oblivious crowds. "Well, at least I've still got Ziva…speaking of which, where is she?" he asked, looking around the office for his secretary/girlfriend of six years. She was his most dependable employee along with Ducky, not to mention she was quite a looker, an attribute Tim's mind and heart simply couldn't apply to Ducky no matter how much he liked the man. She had never been late before without calling. Still, in Tim's dour mood, he was ready to unload his anger on anyone, including Ziva. "Isn't that just like her? I'm in a rut, and she's probably off getting her hair done."

From behind him, Ducky cleared his throat. It wasn't a throat clearing that signified that the older man had something in his throat; it was the kind of throat clearing that signified that he had some unpleasant news. "Actually, Timothy, I understand Ziva had a business meeting to attend."

He turned around. Business meeting? What on earth could his secretary be doing at a business meeting. More importantly, why wasn't he there too? "What kind of business meeting."

"Perhaps you should discuss it with her."

"Ducky," Tim repeated, "what _kind_ of business meeting."

The older man looked markedly uncomfortable at the situation in which he'd been put. "She had a meeting with Ed Sullivan."

"Ed Sullivan!" Tim cried incredulously. Why on earth would Ziva be meeting with a TV sensation like Ed Sullivan, unless…unless…oh no! "How do you like that! Here I am, practically drowning in debt while she's off getting a better job. And she didn't even offer to get one for me!" He glumly returned to where he had been, sulking head laying atop folded arms. "I guess she's leaving me…for good, this time!"

* * *

Actually, Ziva was _not_ leaving him, nor was she sniffing out another job. The beautiful Israeli woman had, in fact, come up with a scathingly brilliant idea of how to save her boyfriend from failure. Everyone was looking at Tony DiNozzo's drafting as a catastrophe; Ziva, though, saw it as an opportunity.

What if, she proposed to Mr. Sullivan himself, you were to have Tony on your show, his final appearance before he went off to defend his country? Certainly the entire female population of America would tune in to watch their idol swivel his hips, yes? And what if, she had added, you allowed one lucky girl the chance to appear on stage to see him off? Tony would sing a new song entitled "One More Kiss"—sure to be a smash hit—and would then bestow upon his lucky fan a final kiss. It was sweet, it was simple, it was passionate and poetic.

In short, it was perfect. Ed had agreed.

When, he had asked, could I hear this new song?

Why, as soon as Timothy writes it, of course!

So it was with great confidence and purpose that Ziva strolled into the Tony Dinozzo Fan Club headquarters. She greeted the workers who were busy sorting through fan mail and sending off autographed posters. Working for Tony's fan club was not an easy job. More and more mail came ever day, asking for everything from autographed merchandise to a lock of the singers hair. They'd had to hire double the amount of people that most fan clubs had due to the exhaustive nature of the work.

"You would think that with his getting drafted and all, the job would have gotten easier," one woman grumbled.

"All of the girls want their letters to get to him before he's gone for good," Ziva told her, giving the woman a sympathetic pat on the shoulder. "Where are the fan club members' information cards?"

The woman nodded towards the opposite wall. There stood five large files, each with multiple drawers holding the information of every girl (and a couple boys) who had joined Tony's fan club. The cards were the size of index cards and had the fan's name, address, telephone number, and birthday printed on it. No one had ever tried to count how many cards filled the drawers. One worker had ventured to guess that there was as many names on those files as there were stars in the sky.

"I am about to make one young girl very happy," Ziva announced to no one in particular. She closed her eyes and pulled open one of the drawers. Then, with her eyes still closed, she walked her fingers over the row of cards until she found one that was almost begging to be pulled. She yanked it out and opened her eyes.

Abigail Gibbs

Sweet Apple, Ohio

841-555-2003

03/27

"Abigail," she repeated. "From Sweet Apple, Ohio." Ziva was giddy with joy. She could not have picked a better place. It was wholesome and all-American; why just the name alone reeked of apple pie and Independence Day fireworks. It was just the kind of place the average people of the country wanted to see, especially if Tony DiNozzo was there.

Ziva picked up the phone, card in hand, and punched in the number. She waited, only to be told the line was busy. With a slight frown, she hung up the phone and tucked Abigail's card into her purse, making a mental note to call again later. She wasn't sure what Miss Gibbs was talking about at the moment, but she was sure it couldn't be nearly as important as what Ziva wanted to tell her.


	3. Chapter 3

At that moment, as Ziva was attempting to get through the Abigail—Abby, as she was called by her friends and family—the girl was on the phone with her best friend Michelle Lee, giving her the big news: Abby's longtime crush, Jimmy Palmer, had finally asked her to go steady!

"No!" Michelle squealed. "Oh, you and Jimmy! You're perfect for each other, like Ozzie and Harriet or Rogers and Astaire…or Rooney and Garland!"

Abby grinned, cradling her phone closer to her. She glanced down at the top of her red dress. Pinned to the strap was a glinting pin—Jimmy's pin. "He was so sweet about it, too! He wanted to pin me himself, but got so flustered and stuck himself with it, so I ended up just pinning it myself to avoid an accident."

Michelle, ever one with an ear for gossip, pressed further. "Did you kiss him?"

Abby bit her lip bashfully. "…yes…" she admittedly slowly, eliciting a squeal from her friend.

"Oh, this is just the best, Abby! It almost makes me forget that our darling Tony is going to be shipped off to fight in the Army soon."

"Tony DiNozzo," Abby said wistfully. "I remember when he was the center of my universe…before Jimmy, of course. Now, he's just like any other rock singer to me." She heard Michelle gasp on the other line. "It's not that I'm not still a fan; I just have more important things to think about. Tony's fine for girlish fantasies, but I'm a woman now and I need a real man."

"Like Jimmy?" Michelle asked in a teasing tone. As much as she liked the young boy, she would hardly consider him manly. His voice had just recently changed!

"Jimmy is sweet and boyish, but with just a little tweaking, I know I can turn him into a man…the kind of man I need."

Her friend was dubious, but didn't say so. "Hey, I've got to go, but congratulations on getting pinned by Jimmy, even if he didn't actually do the pinning."

"Michelle," Abby cut in before the other girl could hang up, "could you…could you just keep this between us for now? Jimmy—poor boy—is so shy about the entire thing. I don't want to frighten him off."

"Of course," Michelle assured, fingers crossed as they sat atop her lap. "I won't tell a single person."

True to her word, Michelle didn't tell a single person. Instead, she told the entire teenage female population of Sweet Apple, girl by girl. Soon, word of Abby and Jimmy's pinning was the hot gossip.

"Did you hear about Abby and Jimmy?"

"He pinned her?"

"No, I heard she had to pin it on herself."

"I wonder if she kissed him."

"Bet his face got that really red color!"

"It'll never work!"

"He's kind of a wimp, dontcha think?"

"She'd too tall for him! Who wants to date an Amazon like that?"

"It's so sweet!"

"They're just perfect for each other!"

It wasn't just the girls talking about the newest couple, though. The boy's too were talking about the pinning, albeit with a bit more disdain than their female counterparts.

"Boy guy! Gotta hurt to lose your freedom like that!"

"Who'd want to go steady?"

"My Pa says guys shouldn't be tied down like that while he's still in high school."

"He's a goner. So young, too!"

"Heya, meathead! Whatcha wanna go and get pinned for, anyway?"

"Now those girls will want _us_ to pin 'em too!"

"You've ruined us, Jimmy!"

The phone lines were still tied up with the news and gossip when Ziva tried a second time to call Abby. With no way to get a hold of her, Ziva, catching sight of the time, decided it would be best for her to get back to the office. Tim was probably worried sick about her. Besides, if he was going to write Tony's next hit song, he needed to get started.

"Well, it's been a pleasure working with you, Timothy," Ducky said as he finished his work. He said it in such a way that one would think this would be his last day working for Tim McGee. The ways things were going, it probably would be. "I guess I'll be going now."

* * *

Tim was still situated on the window sill, looking out at the city; he gave a small wave as the older man exited.

A lone pigeon flew to the window sill and landing inches from where Tim sat, looking at him with big, curious eyes which were often attributed to pigeons.

"Coo?"

"Hey, Bert," Tim greeted, knowing the pigeon all too well. "Sorry, but you'll have to start going elsewhere for your bread crumbs now.

Bert titled his head, not comprehending Tim's words. "Coo?"

"Sure," Tim conceded as he reached for his desk. He always kept some crumbs on hand for the pigeon he'd come to regard as something of a pet. He held out his hand and smiled softly as the bird began pecking them out of his hand, crumb by crumb. "Ah, Bert…as sad as it is, I think you're the only friend I've got left. Ziva's off to better things. She deserves it, though. I've just been holding her back. But you won't leave me, right?" The thought of talking to a pigeon—a rat with wings, as many people called them—didn't strike Tim as odd or unusual, which likely spoke volumes to his current state of mind.

Then, though, Bert tired of the bread crumbs and began flitting about the outer window ledge. "Bert!" Tim called, his hand still full of crumbs. "Aren't you going to eat these?"

The bird turned and cocked his head. He made no movement to return to his provider. This spurred Tim on, urging him to lean further out the window. With one knee on the outer ledge and one leg situated on the chair inside, he reached his crumb-filled hand out to the bird. "C'mere, Bert…"

That was how Ziva found him when she entered the office, still euphoric from the fact that her brilliant idea had been put into motion. She stopped in her tracks, seeing Tim—her beloved Tim!—leaning out the window precariously. Misreading the situation, she screeched and ran to him to stop him. "No, Timothy! No, it is not so bad that you must do this!"

She ran to him at such speed that she had difficulty stopping herself. Suddenly, she'd run into his form, knocking him unbalanced. He lurched forward out the window with a yelp. "Hey!"

Ziva wrapped her arms around his waist and yanked him back. They toppled back into the room, Ziva landing on the floor and Tim landing atop her. Their breathing was ragged.

"What the…were you trying to kill me?!?" he asked incredulously from his place atop her.

"Kill you? I was trying to stop you from killing yourself!"

"Fine way to stop me," he huffed. "You almost had me splattered across 5th Avenue!"

Their faces were inches apart, their lips longing to meet. Ziva noticed this first, a slight smirk playing on her face. Her hand reached up to behind his head, her fingers weaving into the tufts of hair. "Do I not get a heroes reward?" she asked teasingly.

Tim blushed, realizing how close they were to kissing. God, he wanted to kiss her! He wanted to hold her tiny form in his arms and press his lips against hers. And so closer they got…and closer…until…

"Hey, wait!" he shouted, jumping up from the floor. Ziva pouted in frustration. "What are you even here for? To rub it in my face?"

"What am I here for?" she echoed. "Do I not work here? Have I not served as your faithful secretary for the past seven years?"

"Yes you have, but if you're rubbing elbows with Mr. Ed Sullivan now, begging for jobs from him, then you can kindly leave," he replied curtly.

"Begging for jobs? Oh, Timothy! Is that what you think I was doing?" She pushed him down unto to the piano bench and situated herself beside him. "I was merely meeting with Mr. Sullivan so that we might save your career."

"You were getting a job for _me_?"

"No, silly! I was pitching him an idea. Tony is set to leave soon, right?" Tim nodded glumly. "Well, suppose he appears on The Ed Sullivan Show the night before he leaves?"

"How does that help me?"

"You'll write him a song, the last song he sings before he goes. It'll be called "One More Kiss" and, at the end of the song, Tony will bestow a final kiss on one lucky fan."

"That…that's brilliant!" Tim decreed. Already his head was filled with music. He began humming the song he planned to write. "Why, that song will be a smash sensation!"

"Yes!" Ziva agreed, pulling him into an embrace. "And then, with the money you make, we can finally get married and you can finally leave behind this silly business and put that degree in Chemistry to use," she added, nodding to the framed degree which hung on the wall.

Tim looked dubious by the suggestion. "I don't know, Ziva. Momma wouldn't like that."

Her eyes glowered at the mention of the McGee matriarch. At almost sixty years old, Maureen McGee still had her only child wrapped around her little finger. Timothy was a sweetheart to a fault, and that included being a Mama's Boy in the worst of possible ways. In fact, he never would have ended up in this business had he not been bullied into it by his mother, a widow whose husband, Tim's father, had been an amateur song writer himself. Sadly, in the case of musical talent, Tim was _not_ a chip off his old man's block.

"Timothy, are you going to spend your entire life catering to your mother's wants? I understand loving a parent, but you must make your own choices at some point. She won't be around forever."

That was the wrong thing to say, "All the more reason for me to think about her needs now! Mama isn't well! She needs me to care for her!"

In Ziva's opinion "Mama" hadn't been well for quite sometime and would never get better, but she didn't say that. "Timothy, you've a brilliant mind for Chemistry. You could do so many wonderful things!"

"Songwriting is a wonderful thing!"

There was no fighting Tim on some things, and his Mama was one of them. Ziva sighed. "Well, regardless, we will be able to get married and perhaps make _me_ a Mama," she told him a teasing tone.

He smiled. "I like the sound of that…" he whispered as he leaned in to pick up where they'd left off on the floor.

"Timothy!"

The voice cut through the air like a foghorn, causing the loving couple to jump apart. Speak of the devil…

"Mama!" Tim called out excitedly as he ran to the door, leaving a very irate Ziva in his wake. "Mama, I'm up here!"

Seconds later a woman appeared in the doorway. She was easily in her sixties, with grey hair and wrinkled skin. She wore sunglasses, a full-length mink coat, and tennis shoes. She held a cane in her hand, but it seemed to be more for show than for any actual support. She fanned herself furiously. "All those steps," she moaned, "my weak heart just can't take it."

"Perhaps that is what comes from wearing mink in the summer," Ziva muttered beneath her breath.

"What was that?" Despite her old age, there was obviously nothing wrong with Mama McGee's hearing.

"I was just saying hello, Maureen," Ziva said with a fake smile.

"Please call me, Mrs. McGee, Lisa."

"It's Ziva."

"Yes, of course," she said without another glance. She turned back to her son and asked in a purposely loud whisper, "What ever happened to that pretty young secretary you had, Timothy?"

The man looked nervously between the two. "Uh…Mama, that was Ziva. She's been my _only_ secretary."

Mama McGee looked at Ziva, peeking over her glasses with shock. "You? Oh, but you were so pretty! What happened?"

Tim cut in before the women were at each other's throats. "Mama, what are you doing here?"

"Oh, Timmy, I just heard the dreadful news! That scoundrel, going off into the Army without thinking about you! You needed someone by your side and I'm all you have!"

Tim hugged her gleefully. "Thank you, Mama! I knew I could count on you!"

Ziva rolled her eyes at the pathetic display. "Actually, _Maureen_, we have already come up with a solution to the problem. Tony will appear on The Ed Sullivan Show. He will sing his final song, written by Timothy, and will kiss one lucky fan before going off into the army." She expected the idea to be scoffed at, seeing as Mama McGee had never in the past seven years proffered a compliment to Ziva—save for the aforementioned "pretty secretary" comment which had obviously been meant as a back-handed insult—and was pleasantly surprised to see a broad smile split across Mama McGee's face.

"Oh, that is such a brilliant idea! I knew you'd think of something, Timothy!"

"Actually, Mama, it was Ziva's–"

"I always tell everyone 'My boy is in the music business! He's got a mind for show business like my own Louie did, God rest his soul," she added with a look upward. Tim, too, looked upward. Neither saw Ziva once again roll her eyes.

"Well! Now that I know you've got everything under control, my sweet little boy, perhaps you could give me a ride home."

"Actually," Ziva cut in territorially, "Timothy and I have lunch plans. We need to discuss some things for the show." She slipped her arm through Tim's to drive the point home.

The older woman, realizing she'd met her match, pursed her lips. "Oh, I see," she said in a terse tone. "In that case, I suppose I'll just take the subway home."

"The subway!" Tim cried in shock. "Mama, the subway isn't any place for you!"

"No, it's fine, sweetie. I can see I've outlived my usefulness. You're a grown boy now with other needs. You go on with Lisa–"

"Ziva."

"And I'll just hop on one of the trains and hope I get home in one piece. And if I don't perhaps, it would just be for the best."

If Ziva were a board member for the Academy Awards, she would have given the Oscar to Maureen McGee right then and there. The small stumble as she hobbled out was especially inspired.

"No," Tim said firmly, showing a flash of backbone, albeit to the wrong person. "No, Mama, you are _not_ getting on that subway! Ziva and I can go out any time, but I've only got so much time to take care of my Mama! Now let me get my coat and I'll drive you home!"

The words of her son worked a miracle on the woman. She suddenly straightened up and looked to be in perfect health. "Oh, I knew I had the greatest son in all the world!"

Ziva stood stock still as the event unfurled before her. Tim grabbed his coat and gave her a quick peck on her cheek, assuring her that he would call her later.

"Good-bye, Lisa," Mama McGee chirped as she and Tim left arm-in-arm.

The door closed behind them, leaving the seething woman alone in the office. "It's Ziva!"


	4. Chapter 4

"Sorry that Michelle blabbed, Jimmy."

Jimmy Palmer grinned sheepishly at Abby's apology. His _girlfriend's_ apology. It was well worth the jeers he'd suffered from his friends. "Oh, that's okay."

She sighed on the other end of the phone. "I told her not to tell anyone! I guess I should have known better than to trust her. She never could keep quiet about things."

"Abby, I really don't mind. I mean, they were bound to find out sooner or later, right?"

"I'm so glad you're so understanding, Jimmy," she said with a smile. "That's one of the things I really like about you."

"Oh, g-gee," he stuttered. It was a good thing Abby couldn't see him as his cheeks grew red at the compliment. "I really like you too, Abby. I hope you like the pin."

"Of course I do! I'm going to wear it always! Well, except for gym class. Miss Jensen doesn't let us wear jewelry. But other than that, I'll never take it off!" She rolled over on her bed, phone still in hand. "Are you busy today?"

"Well, my dad's making me mow the lawn, but I'm free after that. Well, except I have to be in by nine."

Abby pouted. "Oh, well I guess we could do something until then."

"Sure!"

"Abby!" her mother called up to her. "I need to use the phone!"

She sighed. "Jimmy, I'll have to call you back."

"Oh, okay," he said in disappointment. "I'll ask my folks about doing something tonight."

"Okay! Bye!" She hung up the phone with a wide grin on her face. "I'm off the phone!" she called down to her parents before closing her bedroom door. She flopped back on her bed, her head immediately going up to the strap of her dress where Jimmy's pin was. She stroked the pin lovingly.

Jimmy was a sweet boy. He was the kind of boy a girl could see herself marrying. Of course, she still had a long time before she settled down and started a family. After all, she was only sixteen! But it was nice to think about the future; realistic thoughts, this time. Gone were the fantastical dreams of Tony DiNozzo. He was a celebrity, a rock singer; why, he didn't even know she existed! She was just another screaming girl in a long line of fans. Jimmy, though…he was real! Best of all, he was hers.

She stood and examined herself in the mirror. It was hard to believe that only a year ago she had been a gangly, awkward thing with braces and acne. She'd hated looking at herself. Then, when she hit sixteen, it was like magic. Her body began filling out…her braces were gone, leaving behind perfectly straight teeth…her skin was nice and smooth. Gone was the awkward young girl who could barely take a step without tripping over her own feet; left behind was a beautiful and sophisticated young woman for whom the world was an oyster.

Womanhood. The word had such a promising yet intimidating air to it. It brought forth images of dates and make-up and stylish clothing. It meant later curfews and more freedom. Sure, it also meant more responsibilities, but it was worth it. She could go out at night with friends and do the thing the older kids did. She could sit with Jimmy late at night, holding hands beneath the stars. She could add rouge to her cheeks and mascara to her lashes and slip on a pair of heels.

It was funny, though. Despite the fact that she was now a woman, Abby didn't _feel_ all that different. But there was something that had changed, something she couldn't quite put her finger on. There was a new enlightenment which came with her newfound maturity. Childish games and girlish crushes weren't important; what was important was finding a suitable young man for her future. Of course, seeing as men matured more slowly than women, it would be up to her to train that man into a proper husband, but she was more than ready for the job.

Giving herself one last look, Abby strolled down stairs into her living room. Her little brother, Randolph, was seated with the family turtle, mixing some strange concoction with his chemistry kit. Her father was seated in his favorite chair with the morning newspaper and her mother was speaking on the phone with someone.

"Yes, she's right here." Her mother covered the mouthpiece of the phone and said in a soft tone, "Abby, long distance call for you."

"Thank you, Jenny," she replied loftily as she took the phone.

Her mother did a double take. "Jenny? I thought it was 'mom.'"

"Long distance call for you," the operator said on the other end of the phone. "Could you please hold?"

"Yes, I'll hold," Abby said before turning to her mother. "Get with the times, Jenny. All young women are no a first name basis with their mothers. Makes the relationship more friendly."

"I didn't realize we were supposed to be friends."

Abby ignored her and leaned over her father's head. "Jethro, could you fix me a glass of whatever it is you're drinking?"

He looked up with more than a little amusement. "I don't think bourbon is to your taste," he said, offering her the glass.

To her mother's shock and chagrin, Abby took a small sip of the alcohol. She coughed at the taste and grimaced. "On second thought, I'll just stick to cola."

"What has gotten into you?" her mother asked. She turned to her husband, commenting, "Yesterday I was a mother; today I'm a friend."

"You should enjoy it while it lasts," he said, turning a page of the newspaper. "Certainly beats her hating your guts."

Abby was oblivious to their conversation as she stood, phone pressed to her ear. The other end was picked up.

"Hello, is this Abigail Gibbs?"

"Yes, ma'am."

"This is Ziva David, a representative of Tony DiNozzo. I've got some great news for you, Miss Gibbs! You've been chosen out every girl in America to appear with Tony on The Ed Sullivan show and receive a farewell kiss from him."

Her heart skipped a beat, uncertain if she'd heard correctly. She was going to appear on The Ed Sullivan show? She was going to be on TV with Tony DiNozzo? And he…he was going to _kiss_ her? It had to be a dream…right?

"I…I'm going to…he is…" she stuttered nonsensically.

"We'll be in touch for further details," the woman said, ignoring Abby's fanatic stammering. "Congratulations!" Then the line went dead.

Abby stood completely still, save for her hand replacing the phone in its cradle. Her body trembled as her brain processed this information. Before she knew it, a strangled cry had escaped from her lips. "Mommy!" she yelled. "Daddy! Tony DiNozzo is coming here!" she ranted loudly as her parents ran to her side. "Mommy, he's coming to kiss me!"

"Abby?" her mother asked worriedly.

"They just called me and told me! It's going to be on The Ed Sullivan show…he's going to kiss me!" She enveloped her mother in a tight hug. "Mommy, he's going to kiss me!"

Her mother returned the hug and turned to her husband with a tired smile. "I never though I'd say this, but God bless Tony DiNozzo!"


	5. Chapter 5

Not every American teen was mourning the drafting of teen idol Tony DiNozzo. While the female population was picketing the White House over the matter, young boys everywhere were secretly—or, in some cases, not so secretly—rejoicing the disappearance of a man they considered to be a flashy and untalented fake. Truth be told, their feelings towards DiNozzo had more to do with jealousy than any actual dislike. This was the man who was stealing their women. There was an unspoken agreement among the boys: Tony DiNozzo was the enemy.

News of Abby's good fortune spread quickly in the town of Sweet Apple. Within hours there wasn't a single person who didn't know. The girls gushingly congratulated her while secretly hating her for being so lucky. The boys territorially scoffed at the idea of the rock star coming to their town. The adults worried about the scandalous and sinful effects Tony DiNozzo would have on their children.

Jimmy hadn't really thought much about the entire thing before Abby was picked to be kissed by DiNozzo. He didn't particularly dislike Tony DiNozzo—he would never admit to having a couple of the singers records stored under his bed—and he didn't mind Abby's girlish crush on the rock star. But to have that hot shot come here and kiss his steady? That was just a line that shouldn't be crossed. Worse, he had his friends practically breathing down his neck about it, urging him to "man up" and "set his girl straight." He was buckling beneath the weight of the peer pressure.

The battle of the sexes met on the front lawn of the Sweet Apple high school. DiNozzo was scheduled to appear at Town Hall in less than an hour. There, he would be greeted by Abby and would be given a key to the city by Mayor Vance. The boys were doing everything they could to stop it, but the girls were having none of it. Their voices rang out, chanting their dueling tunes as they each tried to stare the other down:

_We love you, Tony_

_Oh, yes we do!_

**We hate you, Tony**

**Oh, yes we do!**

_We love you, Tony_

_And we'll be true._

**We don't hate anyone**

**As much as you**

_When you're not near us_

_We're blue!_

**When you're around us**

**Pee-yew!**

_Oh, Tony, we love you!_

**Oh, Tony, we hate you!**

In the middle of the fray were Abby and Jimmy, both looking remarkably uncomfortable. "Um…could Abby and me speak alone?" Jimmy asked his friends.

"Yeah," Abby agreed as she turned to her friends, "we need to talk alone."

The teens grumbling obliged, leaving the suddenly torn couple alone to discuss the problem. They were suddenly bashful, uncertain what to say. Jimmy looked down at his feet, rocking back and forth on them as he waited for her to break the ice.

"I know you're nervous," she told him. "I am too!"

"Yeah? How would you feel if I was gonna kiss another girl? And on national TV, no less!"

She gently took his chin and lifted it so that their eyes met. "Jimmy, I may be kissing him, but it's only a kiss1 Don't you kiss your mother?"

"Only on the cheek!"

"But you still kiss her, right? Well, this is no different!"

"Tony DiNozzo isn't your mother."

Abby sighed and walked to the school steps to take a seat. Jimmy followed and sat beside her. "Abby, a guy's got to do what a guy's got to do."

"And so has a woman," she retorted. "Do you think I'm doing this for my own happiness, for my own selfish reasons?"

"Aren't you?"

"Of course not! I'm doing it for the good of our country!" She rested her head against his shoulder. "Tony DiNozzo is being sent to fight in a war. He'll need the support of his fans to keep him fighting. What better way to show our support than to give him one final send off? A big, elaborate send off!"

Jimmy wasn't completely convinced. "But why can't it be another girl?"

"Oh, Jimmy! No matter which girl he kissed, he'd still be kissing all of us! The girl he kisses represents the entire female population, waiting for his safe return."

"So…so you aren't really kissing him?" he asked uncertainly. "I mean, it's really him kissing the entire female population?"

Abby smiled. "Exactly!"

"Oh…okay, I get it now!" His spirits were once again heightened.

"I'm only doing my patriotic duty, Jimmy. It's for the good of the country." She gave him a peck on his cheek before hopping back up. "Now I need to get to Town Hall. I can't be late, now can I?"

He too stood. "So, could we maybe do something later?"

"Oh, I don't know! I've got so much to get done, Jimmy! I've got to greet Tony, then I have to figure out what I'm going to wear on the Ed Sullivan show and get ready for rehearsal tomorrow!"

"But--"

"Gotta run!" After another peck to his cheek she ran off, leaving him both love struck and confused.

* * *

The crowd that surrounded the Town Hall was bigger than any Sweet Apple had ever seen. Mayor Vance was situated atop the steps along with his wife, Tim, and Ziva. Tony hadn't yet arrived, but the teenager girls were chomping at the bit all the same. "Your boy seems to have quite an effect on the young people," Vance observed.

"Oh, well you remember what it's like to be young," Tim said. His eyes widened and he stammered, "Not that you're _not_ young, of course, sir."

Ziva stepped in to smooth over any situation that was about to arise. "What Mr. McGee means is that teenagers tend to go through their phases, as I'm sure you can remember."

"I hope there are no problems," the mayor said gruffly. "I'd hate to see Sweet Apple turned into a proverbial Sodom and Gomorra."

"Of course not, sir," Ziva assured him. "We will make sure Mr. DiNozzo is on his absolute best behavior." Despite that, the mayor looked uncertain. "I know he may exude a certain…er…_reckless_ persona, but deep down, Mr. DiNozzo is a true gentleman."

"Speak of the devil," Tim muttered. He was nodding to a miniature parade which was making its way down Main Street. There were four police officers on motorcycles, two professional body guards in cars, one riding in front of the procession and one riding behind it, and, at the center of it all, a familiar face on a motorbike.

"It's him!" came a shrill cry from the crowd of girls. "It's Tony DiNozzo!"

Sure enough, the beloved rock star rode in, flanked by his protection. It was a good thing too, seeing as the crowd surged forward as the females each tried to grab their very own piece of Tony DiNozzo. He wore a gold jumpsuit, complete with a diamond-studded belt. When he removed his helmet, his hair was still perfectly coifed. He shot his fans an adoring smile paired with an impish wink.

They swooned.

The rock idol was led up the steps to where the mayor was waiting. Tony looked over the crowd with a growing smirk. He obviously thought himself better than the little hick town "Be nice," Tim hissed in his ear. He didn't want their celebrity to insult the people of Sweet Apple.

"I'm always nice, McGee."

The crowd quieted as the heartthrob reached the top of the steps and turned toward them. It was an eerie hushed tone as they waited for him to speak.

Abby took a tentative step forward and caught Tony's eye. He grinned appreciatively. "On behalf of Sweet Apple chapter of the Tony DiNozzo fan club, I, Abigail Gibbs, would like to welcome you to our town," she said shyly.

"Well thank you, little lady."

His comment elicited squeals of joy from Abby and her comrades, as well as every female within a one mile radius. Abby felt her heart flutter and her cheeks flush. Tony DiNozzo was here, talking to her!

Mayor Vance felt it an opportune moment to step forward and take the spotlight. "Mr. DiNozzo, as the mayor of Sweet Apple, I would like to extend a greeting to Tony DiNozzo and—"

"He said his name!" screeched Michelle giddily.

Vance was taken aback, but continued on. "And, on behalf of our town, I would like to give a key to the city to Mr. DiNozzo."

"He said it again!" Michelle shouted. "He said DiNozzo!"

"Miss," Vance said in an irritable tone, "if you keep screaming like that I'll never get through my speech."

"Who cares? We don't want to hear your boring old speech! We want to hear Tony sing!" The other girls verbalized their agreement. "He's the reason we're all here!"

Tim and Ziva exchanged nervous looks. No doubt Tony was anxious to sing, to receive the praise he so desired. But they didn't want to step on any toes. "Um…well, if Mayor Vance doesn't mind, of course," Tim stammered. "I'm sure Tony would love to give you a little song…"

Tony didn't wait for any approval; he didn't need it. All he needed was his guitar, his swiveling hips, and a gaggle of ogling girls. He jumped swiftly atop one of the ceramic lions situated outside of Town Hall and smoothly fell into a familiar tune. The girls were immediately mesmerized.

During the hubbub, Ziva pulled Tim to the side. "We will have to rein him in, Timothy," she warned. "I get the feeling this is not the kind of town that takes kindly to…well...his type."

"He's just singing a song, Ziva. Unless there's a law against that, I don't think we've got anything to worry about."

She frowned. "I would not be surprised if there were a law against it."

"No one's slapped handcuffs on him yet." Tim's sardonic manner was actually a cover for his own fears. He knew first-hand just how wild Tony could get and the last thing they needed was to be thrown out of the town…or thrown in jail. He wiped a bit of sweat off his forehead. "The girls seem to like it."

As was expected, the females in attendance—and some of the males—were enraptured by the rock star's song. He had led them like a Pied Piper to the beautiful fountain located in the middle of the Town Hall beautifully sculpted lawn. At least, it _had_ been beautifully sculpted. The hundreds of feet which trampled across it left it looking less than stellar. Vance was shouting for them to stay off the lawn, but his cries were drowned out by Tony's voice and the screams of his many fans.

Ziva nudged for Tim to intervene, but the nervous young man knew it was too late. If he tried to infiltrate the throng of obsessed women they would tear him limb to limb as the Bacchants did to King Pentheus. All they could do now was stay put and hope for the best.

It was the hip thrusts that did it. One bump of his pelvic bone in their direction and the women fainted straight away. No female was immune to his magically, swiveling hips...not even Mayor Vance's wife! "Jackie!" he cried as the woman slumped backwards into his arms. She was out like a light having succumbed to the teen idol's seemingly magical charms. He looked angrily to Tim and Ziva and asked, "What is your man doing?"

Tim edged away from the irate government official, but Ziva offered a sweet smile to Mayor Vance. "He is putting your town on the map, Mr. Mayor." Then she turned and looked out at the sight which lay before them. Girls and women were strewn every which way, lying unconscious on the Town Hall lawn. The overwhelming sight of Tony DiNozzo combined with his voodoo hips had taken their toll on them. They were gone, at least for the time being.

And who stood amid this mass of fainted women? Tony DiNozzo, of course, complete with his trademark smirk.

This, he thought, was going to be fun.


	6. Chapter 6

Not everyone was pleased by the arrival of Tony DiNozzo to Sweet Apple. From their place outside the small apartment upstairs, Tim and Ziva listened in as the Gibbs' ranted over the raucous display they'd witnessed at Town Hall; the same display that had put their daughter in a near comatose state.

"I think they regret letting us stay here," Ziva commented. The Gibbs' had graciously allowed them—Tim, Ziva, and Tony—boarding in the tiny apartment. It wasn't large and it certainly wasn't as lush as Tony was accustomed to, but it was better than nothing.

Tim nodded glumly. "Yeah, well it may have something to do with having Tony do close to their young daughter."

"Makes sense. I mean, would _you_ allow him near your daughter? Once you have one, that is," she added with a hinting tone.

"Are you kidding?" he scoffed. When and if he had a daughter, Tony wouldn't be allowed anywhere near her. "Well, I see we're off to a great start here. Five minutes in town and Tony manages to send all the women in the town into a state of shock." He sat down on the steps leading to the upstairs apartment. "Maybe it's for the best that he's going into the army. One swivel and bump of his hips and the enemy will faint straight away."

Ziva laughed at his quip as she sat beside him, snuggling up to him. "That would only work if they were female. Men seem to be immune to Tony's charms."

"Yeah," he muttered, wrapping an arm around her waist, "that's just our luck."

"Where is our rock star right now?"

"Catching up on his beauty sleep. He said the impromptu concert did a number on him."

"Him and everyone else." She adjusted her place in his arms and sighed resignedly. "You realize we will have to assuage her parents. Otherwise they will pull the plug on the entire thing."

He knew it and dreaded it. Neither of young Abby's parents looked like pushovers and speaking with angry people was not one of Tim's strong points. Good thing he had Ziva. "I guess we should get to that now."

Ziva stood and helped him up. She gestured down the stairs. "After you, Timothy."

* * *

As expected, the Gibbs' were less than pleased with the living arrangement and with their daughter's impending televised kiss. "Thanks to Mr. DiNozzo's little stunt this afternoon, I've become the laughing stock of my N.O.W. group," Mrs. Gibbs—Jenny, as she insisted they call her—ranted. "They're questioning my dedicated to the liberation of women, especially when they found out I was housing that sex monger."

"Mrs. Gibbs…er…Jenny," Tim said in the most soothing tone he could muster, "I understand this is putting a lot of strain on you."

She shot him a glare. "Mr. McGee, you have no idea. Sweet Apple is a nice town and we prefer to keep it that way."

"Tony just needs to get accustomed to this," Ziva said. "He's used to the big city life."

"That much is obvious," Jenny retorted bitingly. "But this isn't the big city and we don't need this kind of publicity."

"I don't like the idea of that jumpsuit wearing…_guy_ living under the same roof as my daughter," Mr. Gibbs—Gibbs as he'd demanded they call him—put in. "She doesn't need that sort of influence."

"Well, um, sir, he isn't technically living under the same roof…"

"Don't get glib with me, son."

Tim blushed. "Um…sorry, sir, I just meant that—"

Jenny stepped forward, her eyes blazing. She obviously meant business. "Look, Mr. McGee; I don't doubt that you've got a job to do here, but we've got a job as well. We're parents, and part of being a parent is ensuring that your children aren't exposed to such…degradation! Now I am putting my foot down on this and there is nothing you can say that would change my mind!"

They were in a bind and Tim knew it. If Abby's parents weren't on board then all of this—the planning and the songwriting—will have been for naught. They needed to think and think quick. "Well…"

"Well, we haven't told you two the best part!" Ziva, ever quick on her feet, stepped forward and took command of the situation. "You see, Mr. Sullivan has insisted that in addition to Abby being on the show, you and your husband also make an appearance. He wants to show how small towns can raise such wonderful and patriotic young girls."

It was complete rubbish and both Tim and Ziva knew it. The Gibbs', though, had a visible change of heart, particularly Jenny. "Ed Sullivan…he wants…wants _us_ on the show as well?" Her hand instinctively went up to her hair, smoothing it as she imagined herself on national television.

"That's right," Ziva continued. "I do hope you're not camera shy."

"Of course not!" Jenny's eyes were all stars now as she pictured herself there, standing beside Mr. Sullivan himself, while people who knew her watched at home. "Can you imagine what that cold fish Mrs. Miller will say?"

"Now, if Abby isn't going to appear on the show," Tim cut in, pulling the woman from her daydream, "then I don't think Mr. Sullivan will have room for you."

Jenny gave him a look of incredulousness. "Not appear? Of course she'll appear! I could never take this away from her! Besides, she's only doing it for the best of the country, right Jethro?" Her husband shrugged in reply. "Why, she'll be there in her Sunday best. Along with us, of course."

Ziva nudged Tim, shooting him a smile. He winked at her, acknowledging her great idea. "I am very glad to hear that, Jenny," Ziva said. "I am sure Abby too will appreciate it."

The phone came to life with a loud jingle. Jenny—head still in the clouds as she thought about her impending television debut—answered it with a smile. "Gibbs residence."

On the other end was a very irate Mayor Vance. "Jenny, this is Leon. I need to speak to you and Jethro about all of this. I'm beginning to think that this isn't a very good idea for Sweet Apple, being associated with that sex mongrel."

"Leon!" she chided. "Mr. DiNozzo is no such thing! He's a young man who is selflessly going off to defend his country!"

"He was drafted!"

"Regardless, he's doing it! Now don't you think that sets a fine example for you teenagers here?"

"That does, but hip swiveling and grinding don't! It's bad enough we've got that smut on television; we don't need it here! I don't care if it does put Sweet Apple on the map, I want him out!"

Jenny bit her lip as her mind raced. Her chance to be a celebrity was so close she could taste it, but she knew she couldn't cross the mayor. She would need to make a drastic move. "Oh, but Mayor Vance," she said in the sweetest voice she could muster, "I haven't told you the wonderful news!"

"And what news is that?"

"Well, Jethro and I are going to be on the show with Abigail."

Vance was less than impressed. "That's wonderful for you, but it doesn't change my stance."

"Oh, but Leon! They want you to be on the show as well!" She threw Tim and Ziva a quick grin. "They want you to give a speech!"

But the couple was less than pleased. "The mayor?" Tim hissed in Ziva's ear. "We've only got a three minute spot! We won't have time for it all!"

It was true and she knew it. "What else can we do? If we don't suck-up to them we won't even get a one-second spot!"

Jenny's comment had done its job. One the other end of the phone, Vance straightened up. "Me?" he asked as a smile broke across his face. "They want me on the show?"

"That's right, Leon. Of course, if you'd rather cancel the entire thing…"

"Cancel? Why? Just because this DiNozzo guy is a bit on the wild side? No, ma'am! Here in Sweet Apple, we aren't so judgmental!"

She grinned and shot a wink to Tim and Ziva. "I thought you'd see it that way. Yes, of course you'll be at the rehearsal tomorrow. I'll see you then! Bye-bye!" She hung up with a look of great satisfaction. "Well, I took care of that, didn't I?"

Tim exchanged a look with Ziva. "You certainly did," Tim intoned with as must enthusiasm as he could muster. "So…any other people you'd like to put up there? Why not bring up the entire town?"

"Timothy," Ziva hissed with a jut to his side. "What he means is that the spot on the show is only three minutes, so if you want a proper appearance you might not want to invite more people on the show."

"Of course," Jenny said. "We wouldn't want a lot of unimportant people hogging the spotlight from us, now would we?"

"No," the young songwriter said with a sour tone, "we wouldn't."

The door flew open and a petite girl rushed in with a harried expression, followed by a young man who was moving at a much slower pace. "Mrs. Gibbs! Mr. Gibbs!" Michelle shouted breathlessly. "Is it true?"

Jimmy was far calmer. "I told you, Michelle, they're not letting her go on." The young boy looked quite happy about that news. "Personally, I think it's for the best."

"But you can't!" Michelle protested, even stomping her foot for good measure. "You just can't! It'll ruin Abby!"

"Hey, I think they know how to parent their own daughter," Jimmy said. "If they say Abby doesn't go on, then Abby doesn't go on."

Jenny took that moment to cut in. "Actually, Jimmy, after much consideration we have decided to allow Abby to appear on the show."

The young boy did a double take, mouth agape. "B-but…but…"

"She's old enough to make her own decisions and I would never want to stand in the way of such a wonderful opportunity for her."

Ziva almost felt bad for the kid; he was obviously smitten with the girl and no one liked to see their true love kissed by another person, especially on national television. She looked sideways at her boyfriend of six years. If _he_ ever thought of kissing another woman…well, she knew how to take care of that.

"This is crazy!" Jimmy muttered angrily. He shoved his hands in his pockets and paced back and forth. "Just crazy!"

"What's crazy, James darling?"

Six heads shot up and caught sight of Abby descending the stairs. She had arisen from her hip-pops induced coma and was practically glowing. "Good afternoon, mother and father," she said, kissing them each on the cheek. "Miss David and Mr. McGee," she added, nodding to them. "And Michelle and James, what a wonderful surprise!"

Michelle ran to her best friend and enveloped her in a hug. "Oh, Abby! Where is he?"

"Anthony is asleep."

"Can I go see him."

"You may peek through the keyhole." As her friend bolted up the stairs, Abby turned her attention on her new boyfriend. "And James, what were you talking about?"

Jimmy looked down at his shoes. "It's just…well, I…um…" He looked up at the five pairs of eyes watching him expectantly; his cheeks blushed furiously. "Can we talk in private?"

"Of course," Abby said, taking his hand. "Mother, James and I will be in the garden." With that, the two teens strode hand-in-hand out the back door. Despite her mature demeanor, it was clear that Abby was putting on a façade; she was still the same awestruck teen that had fainted at the sight of her favorite rock stars swiveling hips.

Ziva followed suit by taking Tim's hand. "Well, now that we have got everything under control, perhaps you and I should head up to the apartment and plan out the rest of the show.

Tim sheepishly extracted his hand from hers. "Sorry, Ziva, but I've got to call the Sweet Apple Inn and see if mother's checked in."

"Mother?" Her eyes widened in anger. "Your mother is here?"

"Why wouldn't she be?"

Ziva didn't respond. She shook her head in disarray and stormed out. Even in Sweet Apple she could escape the clutches of Mama McGee.

If Tim noticed his girlfriend's ire, he didn't say anything. Instead, he picked up the phone and dialed the number he'd torn from the phone book. "Yes, I'm calling to ask if Mrs. Maureen McGee has checked in…What? No, she had a reservation for the next three days…I made the reservation myself!"

Gibbs gave the younger man a pat on the back. "Don't worry. Sweet Apple's a nice town. Your mother will be fine."

He wasn't convinced by the man's words. "Mother is very sensitive," he said, holding his hand over the phone's mouthpiece. "I can't stand the thought of her wandering around all alone!"

As he continued his frustrated conversation with the man at the Sweet Apple Inn, Gibbs and Jenny stood off to the side observing him with amusement. "Well," Gibbs said in a hushed tone to his wife, "that explains it."

"Explains what?"

"It explains why those two haven't tied the knot yet."


	7. Chapter 7

Abby and Jimmy strode through the beautiful backyard garden and seated themselves beneath the pagoda her father had built earlier that summer. Ivy had already begun growing along the white woodwork, giving it a rustic feel. The bench was concrete with a mosaic picture depicting gold and pink roses. The air smelled of honeysuckle, an aroma that only served to romanticize the moment, along with the golden-hazed sky and the lovely flora which surrounded them.

"Now what did you want to talk about, James?" she asked as she daintily crossed her legs at the ankles.

"Why are you talking like that?"

"Like what, darling?"

"You're calling me 'James' and 'darling;' it sounds fake."

She rolled her eyes. "That's what maturity does to you."

"If that's maturity then I don't want it," he replied with a sour face. He shot up and walked to the edge of the pagoda, glaring down at the rose bush. "Especially if it means you'll be kissing other men."

"Are you still harping on that?" she asked as she stood and walked to him. Her hand fell upon his shoulder and with very little effort on her part she managed to turn him to face her. The "mature, worldly woman" was dissolving, leaving in its place the starry-eyed teenage girl who Jimmy had pinned two days before. "Jimmy, I told you he means nothing."

"Yeah?" he mumbled. He looked down at his shoes as he kicked garden dirt about. "Well I still don't like it."

"You're silly," she said with a giggle. "What do you think is going to happen?"

"You're going to kiss him," Jimmy responded glumly.

"And then what?"

He shrugged. He didn't want to think about the kiss, let alone what would happen after that.

"He'll be gone after that," she continued. "He'll be off and I'll still be here in Sweet Apple with you." She wrapped her arms around his torso and rested her head on his chest. "Tony isn't the marrying kind; he's the type who prefers to date around and have flings. And that's all this will be to him: a fling."

"And what's that got to do with me?"

"Oh, Jimmy," she sighed. "Don't you understand? Every girl needs that one special boy. She needs a reliable boy, trustworthy and hardworking." She looked up at him. "Don't you think I want to settle down one day?"

The mention of commitment sent Jimmy's cheeks ablaze and he fell into a state of stuttering. "I…uh…settle down?"

Abby laughed. "I don't mean right now, Jimmy! But one day…and I'll need that one special boy, won't I? Something tells me Tony DiNozzo isn't the settling down type."

The young boy's eyes were all stars now. "Wow…you mean one day you'd like to…uh…you know." He looked back down at his shoes, shy to breach such a serious subject. They were only teenagers after all! But still, the idea of one day marrying her…Jimmy couldn't deny it was a pleasant thought. "So you really mean it? Tony DiNozzo doesn't mean anything?"

She kissed him quickly on the lips. "He's just a phase, Jimmy. Let me give him this send-off, one last goodbye, and then he'll be out of my life forever."

That did the trick. Jimmy was now putty in her hand. "Okay," he conceded, "one last goodbye."

As the teenage couple reconciled their tumultuous relationship, a saddened Ziva watched from the stairs leading to the upstairs apartment. Funny, she thought, that two sixteen-year-olds had a more mature and more stable relationship than she and Tim did. She'd been waiting patiently at the man's side, hoping that he would finally pop the question and they could get on with their lives. She had been living in a dream, though; Tim was never going to settle down with her while his mother had him wrapped around her finger.

"Perhaps it is time to move on," she said to herself. "If he cannot recognize how important I am…well, why should I sit by his side time and time again? Let his mother hold his hand through all of this and come up with ideas to save him each time there is a catastrophic event, yes? I am a young and attractive woman that any man would be lucky to have, and yet I stay with him through it all! And why? Because…because of those gorgeous eyes? Because of those beautiful lips? Because of how warm it is in his arms?" She stood and began walking down the steps. "Well, no more! If he wants me he will have to make the commitment to me once and for all! Is he going to be his mother's perfect son or is he going to be the independent man I know he can be?"

There was no response to her question. Why should there be? She was, after all, talking to no one. "Great…now I am talking to myself. That is the first sign of insanity, yes?"

"Ziva?" She looked up and saw a harried Tim running out into the yard, looking about frantically. He caught sight of her, but didn't notice her somber mood. "Ziva!" he called as he jetted up the steps. "Ziva, we have a problem!"

"We have many," she said dryly as she took a seat on one of the steps.

"Mama didn't check in to her hotel! I don't know where she is! She's probably wandering the streets, looking for me! We may never find her!"

"I fail to see what the problem is."

He looked at his girlfriend in utter shock. "Mama's out there alone and I can't do anything to help her!"

"Your mother is a resilient woman, Timothy," she replied calmly as she pulled him down to sit, "she will get by."

"But—"

She raised a hand to silence him. "If she has not materialized by this evening I will personally conduct the search party. Right now we have things to discuss."

"Such as what?" he asked glumly.

"Such as how we're going to squeeze a mayor, an ambitious woman, a song, and a farewell kiss into a three minute spot."

He sighed and rested his chin in his hands. "Well, if we rush along Mayor Vance and Mrs. Gibbs—make sure they keep it short and simple—then we push Tony and Abby on. If we're lucky we'll end with a couple of seconds to spare."

"Mayor Vance strikes me as being a talker. I assume he'll have a nice, long speech written out for the event."

"Well, if it looks like he's going to drone on, I'll have Tony and the band start up and drown him out. It's a bit rude, I know, but it'll get the job done." He sighed once more and began tapping his fingers against his cheek. "I'm just so worried!"

"Oh, Timothy!" she cooed as she cuddled up beside him. "This will work! You will reap the benefits and then you and I can finally get married."

"No," he grumbled, "I mean I'm worried about Mama!"

"Mama!" That one word sent Ziva over the top. She jumped to her feet and began descending the steps two at a time. "That is all I ever hear anymore! Mama this, and Mama that! It's as though there's another woman!"

Tim followed behind contritely. "Ziva!"

"No more!" she proclaimed. "You can do this yourself, Timothy McGee!"

He caught up to her and wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her back against him. "Hey, come on," he whispered. "You know you're the only woman for me."

"Other than 'Mama,'" she muttered sarcastically.

"She's my mother, Ziva. The bible says 'Honor thy father and thy mother.'"

"Honor, yes; grovel before, no." She turned in his arms so that they were face to face. She looked up into his beautiful green eyes and momentarily lost her train of thought. "Timothy," she said softly, "I respect your dedication to your mother, but you are a grown man now. You need to make your own choices in life."

"And if my choice is to take care of Mama?"

Her lips pursed into a frown and she pulled herself from his embrace. "Then my choice is to leave you to it."

"Ziva! Ziva, please! I love you!" Tim managed to grab her again. He dipped his head down so that his mouth was directly against her ear. "I love you so much I can't stand it. If you left…well, I just don't know what I'd do."

His words made her smile. It was always nice to know just how much a man needed you, to hear him begging you to stay.

"I promise you we'll get married. We'll have a nice little house for just the two of us."

"Mmm," she murmured with glee. "Tell me more."

"A beautiful rose garden," he said as he plucked a blossom from the Gibbs' rose bush. He stuck the stem behind her ear. "And perhaps a baby…or two…or three…" he said, punctuating each number with a kiss to her neck.

"Timothy," she whispered, eyes closed in bliss. "Perhaps we should go somewhere a bit more…private…"

He turned her around in his arms. Her lips looked so delicious…so kissable. In closer he went…and closer…and closer…

"Timothy!"

The couple jumped apart at the shrill call. It was a call that they knew all too well. "Mama!"

Tim ran toward the house, leaving Ziva fuming behind him. So close! She had been so close! Mama McGee must have had some sort of sixth sense, letting her know the most inopportune time for her to pop up out of nowhere. She wasn't sure what magic spell the McGee matriarch had over her only son, but Ziva hoped to one day learn her secret.

"Mama?" Tim bolted into the house and found his mother, donning her usual mink coat, seated on the couch and fanning herself. "Mama! I was so worried about you!" he said as he rushed to her side. "I told you I made you a reservation!"

"Oh, Timothy," she said in a faint tone. "I didn't want to inconvenience you. You're a young man now; no need to take care of dear old Mama. And…" She stopped and let out a long sigh. "Oh, that journey took its toll on me…"

"I'll get you some water, Mama." He ran off, leaving his mother to hem and haw dramatically while fanning herself frantically. Mr. and Mrs. Gibbs exchanged looks.

"We would love to put your mother up, Mr. McGee," Jenny said, "but I'm afraid we've reached our limit."

Mama McGee shook her head. "That's okay, I can find somewhere to bunker down. So long as my little boy is happy…"

"Mama, you can have the bed upstairs. I'll sleep on the floor," Tim proclaimed as he returned with the promised glass of water. "You need a bed more than I do."

"No, no, son! You're the successful songwriter. You've earned the right to a bed. I'm just a sad old woman who's on her way out." She raised her eyes to the heavens. "I'm coming, Louie! Don't worry about a thing!"

"Are you sick, Mrs. McGee?" Gibbs asked skeptically. He had a knack for spotting phonies. This woman was convincing, no doubt, but it was clear she was putting on an act. Clear, of course, to everyone except her son.

"Just a weak heart," the woman replied. "But I'm so luck to have such a sweet son as Timothy. He's a songwriter, you know."

"We know."

"He's going to continue on the family business, isn't that right, son?"

Tim's cheeks blazed red and he averted his eyes. Mama could always tell what he was thinking. "Actually, Mama…well…I've been thinking…I mean, I've got that degree in chemistry and…well…don't you think I should put it to use?"

Any weakness Mama McGee had ailed from dissolved as she narrowed her eyes angrily. "Chemistry? My son in chemistry?" She shot up and began pacing. "It's that Ziva girl! She's tricked you and turned you against your dear old mother!"

"She's done nothing of the sort, Mama! Ziva only wants me to be happy!"

But the woman was on a roll now and nothing, least of all her son's feeble protests, could stop her. "Oh, she's a crafty one, she is! Making you leave the family business! And for what? For chemistry? Ha! How has chemistry ever changed the world?"

"Mama!"

This time it wasn't Tim calling for his mother; the call came from Abby who was racing down the stairs with Michelle near behind. The girl was grinning excitedly while her mother studied her in horror. The horror may have had something to do with the black spider web that now decorated her neck

"Abigail! What on earth is that?"

"Isn't it great!" the girl gushed, oblivious to her mother's anger. "They're all the rage nowadays! Doesn't it make me look so rock and roll?"

Her mother grabbed her face and turned her head so to better study the new addition to her daughter's skin. "It's not permanent, is it?"

"No," Michelle assured the woman. "Well, I did use a permanent marker…but it should come off eventually."

"Eventually!" Jenny shouted. "Abigail, you march right upstairs this instant! I do not want you coming back down until that…that _thing_ is gone!"

"But mother!"

"No 'buts'! You get that thing off! I will not have you walking around looking like that!"

Abby pouted and turned to her usual ally. "Daddy?"

Gibbs wasn't about to get in the middle of it. "Listen to your mother."

"Ooo, it's not fair!" Abby screeched petulantly as she stomped back upstairs. "It's just not fair!"

Jenny folded her arms angrily, trembling as she reached the limit. "Kids!" she spat out. "So ungrateful and disobedient!"

Mama McGee laid a hand on the younger woman's arm sympathetically. "I wish I could tell you it gets better, dear; unfortunately," she said with a harsh look to her son, "I think it only gets worse."

"Hey! Now I think I've been a pretty good son," he argued. "I've always been there for you!"

The older woman didn't listen as she puttered through the kitchen. "I'll just make it easy on you Timothy," she said as she opened the oven and stuck her head inside. "I'll just lie right here and put you out of your misery."

"But I'm not miserable, Mama!"

"I'm coming, Louie! Save a game of pinochle for me!"

Tim grabbed the woman and pulled her out of the kitchen appliance. "Now, Mama, stop acting like this!"

"What've I got to live for?"

"Me, for one!"

"Oh, I'm only holding you back, Timothy…"

"No, Mama! You're not holding me back!"

"That's parenthood," Mama McGee said to Mr. and Mrs. Gibbs. "You give and give and give…and then they leave you with your head in an oven."

"Never!" Tim proclaimed firmly as he embraced his mother. "I'll never leave you, Mama! I swear it on my life!"

Their commotion was interrupted by the sound of someone clearing their throat. Ziva was standing in the doorway, arms akimbo, looking on with disdain. Mere minutes before Tim had been holding her in his arms; now she had been replaced by his mother once again. She couldn't live this way.

"Do not mind me," she said tersely, "I only came to use the phone. I think it may be a bit too crowded here and I would hate to take advantage of the Gibbs' hospitality. If you need me, I will be staying at the Sweet Apple Inn." And with that, she turned on her heel and stormed out.

"Ziva!" Tim called out as he went to followed her. He was halted by his mother's hand on his arm.

"Now, now, son," she cooed as she led him in the opposite direction of where Ziva had just gone. "Don't worry! You can always find another secretary!"


	8. Chapter 8

Tensions were high the next morning as the group met in the high school auditorium to rehearse the spot that was to appear on The Ed Sullivan show the next evening. In attendance were Tim and Ziva—the latter not speaking to the former—with Tim's mother in tow, Mr. and Mrs. Gibbs, Mayor Vance, Abby, and Jimmy, who, despite his comments the previous night, was still uneasy about his girlfriend being kissed by a rock star on national television. Tony, of course, was there as well, having traded in his gold jumpsuit for a pair of jeans and a button-up white shirt which he wore with the top three buttons undone, revealing his well-sculpted chest.

"So we'll begin with Mr. and Mrs. Gibbs," Tim said, beckoning them forward. "You two can comment about how proud you are that your daughter was chosen to give Tony this send-off. Then introduce Mayor Vance who will mention how honored he is to have Tony in Sweet Apple and will then present Tony and Abby." The two stepped forward. Abby wrung her hands nervously; Tony noticed her bashfulness and shot her a wink. Jimmy silently fumed. "The song will begin right away, so be ready. Tony will sing and Abby will stand by. At the end of the song, she'll kiss him and that'll be the end. Everyone got that?"

"Yes," the group chorused.

"Good," Tim said with a sigh. "Can we go through it?"

The cast for the three minute spot went through the given blocking, a task that seemed to take them far beyond their three minute limit. By the time the song started up they were one minute over time. Tim grimaced but said nothing; he could address the problem when they went through it again. "Okay, here's the song."

The song was complete and, truth be told, was one of Tim's better works. It was a generic love song, but it did the job and Tony sold it with every ounce of energy he possessed. Though he had been pegged as relying on his good looks, charm, and hypnotic hips, Tony did have talent, and this song show cased it well. Abby stood beside him, mesmerized by it all: the song, the voice, the hips…

"That was great, Tony!" Tim proclaimed. "And this is where you'll give our young fan a kiss. Now can we go through it again?"

"Again?" Tony asked. "That was perfect!"

"It was three minutes over our time limit. Mr. and Mrs. Gibbs and Mayor Vance, we'll need you to be quicker. Try and keep what you say to the bare minimum."

Jenny pouted. "Well, I need to mention the Women's Lib movement! I think it's very relevant to the current times."

"And what good is it for me to be on the show without mentioning the upcoming mayoral race?" asked Mayor Vance. "I need the voters to know that I intend to bring great things to Sweet Apple, such as the presence of a great rock star like Tony DiNozzo."

"Actually, Leon," Jenny said in a phony sweet tone, "_we_ brought Tony here. He wouldn't have come if Abby hadn't been chosen to be kissed."

"Yes, but I approved his coming here."

"After we gave you a place on the show!"

Tim stepped between the two. "Hey! Can we please focus here? Now let's take it from the top."

"Come on, McGee!" Tony groaned. "It's three minutes and it's simple! I sing the song, then I grab the girl," he explained, grabbing Abby around the waist and dipping her back, "and kiss her." He ended the remark by planting a kiss on Abby's waiting lips. It lasted all of five seconds, but when it ended, Abby stared up at him with twinkling eyes.

Jimmy could stay silent no longer. "That's my girl you're kissing!" he cried.

"Yeah?" Tony sneered with amusement. "And what are you going to do about it?"

"I'll knock your lights out is what I'll do!"

"Jimmy!" Abby admonished. "I thought we discussed this!"

"No! No, I won't sit by and watch you get kissed by some other guy! It's not fair! Now you need to choose, Abby! Either you're with me or you're not!"

She stepped toward him with a frown. "Why are you acting like this?"

"Because when I asked you to be my girl I meant to be _my_ girl, not…not Tony DiNozzo's girl. You can't wear a guy's pin while kissing another guy."

"Oh yeah?" she retorted angrily. "Well that's just fine! I won't wear your pin!" She ripped the piece of jewelry from her dress and threw it to the ground. "You can have it, Jimmy Palmer!"

Tony, who had watched the entire ordeal with increasing amusement, laughed. "Yeah, well I think we're done here. I've got to rest up for tonight, so I'll be heading out now." He gave Tim a pat on the shoulder, calling out, "Great rehearsal everyone!"

"I think I'll go too," Abby announced as walked in the same direction that Tony had. "I want to be rested up for this evening. The girls and I are going out to celebrate."

"B-but wait!" Tim called in vain. "We still need to work on this! It's not ready for tomorrow!" It was too late for his protests, though. Mrs. Gibbs and Mayor Vance were heatedly discussing who should cut their speech to make time, his two stars of the show had just left, and he was standing in the middle of it falling apart. He ran to his support.

"Ziva!" he said. "Ziva, what am I going to do?"

The woman regarded him coolly. "Were you speaking to me? Because I haven't an idea."

"This is no time to joke, Ziva."

"Who is joking, Timothy? I am through fixing your messes. Perhaps your Mama can make it all better though," she cooed condescendingly. "Now if you will excuse me, I have plans of my own tonight."

"Plans?" he echoed. "What sort of plans?"

"Private plans," she said with a wink. "There are quite a few attractive men around these parts, no?"

His cheeks blazed. "Ziva! Don't I mean anything to you?"

She wasn't listening as she walked away, swaying her hips in that tantalizing fashion that always made Tim drool. Tim…she shouldn't even be thinking about him. He only held her back. Why, with her looks and her brains, she could do anything! And tonight…tonight she would do it.

A smile spread over her face as she thought about the things she was going to do.

* * *

Maude's was a place on the outskirts of town that had food, music, and drinks. It was usually reserved for college students, but a few courageous high school students would usually patronize it each weekend as well. The establishment had a strict ID policy for purchasing alcoholic drinks, but sometimes the bartender would allow himself to bought out by a sweet smile from an underage drinker.

Abby had spent the day preparing for her night out on the town; her night as a free woman. She'd washed, dried, and teased her hair into a hip 'do, the kind that most of the Hollywood stars were wearing at the moment. She'd traded in her traditional modest dress for an outfit that was a bit more jaw-dropping. The top was a black midriff with red ruffles. She wore it with a pair of tight, black pedal pushers and red flats. When she walked by, more than a few men turned their heads.

She entered Maude's with her girlfriends in tow. "Let's grab a table," she said while simultaneously searching for Tony. Michelle had been eavesdropping on him after the rehearsal and heard him mention that he'd be dropping in at Maude's for a good time.

"Are you sure you heard right, Michelle?" asked Nikki, one of their friends. "I don't see him here."

Michelle rolled her eyes. "Haven't you ever heard of being fashionably late? Tony is nothing if not fashionable."

While Tony may not have been anywhere in sight, there was a gaggle of other boys hanging out there. But they weren't just any boys; they were _college_ boys. College meant experience and nothing was as attractive to a young, naïve girl as a boy who knew what he was doing.

"Boys right behind us," Cynthia whispered to them. The girls stealthily—at least, stealthily in their minds—turned to glance at the table of boys sitting behind them. They each had a bottle of beer in their hands and each wore a sweater or jacket proclaiming the name of the local college.

"Oh, they're cute!" Nikki said with a giggle.

Their staring session was interrupted by the raspy voice of their waitress. "What can I get for you girls?"

Abby, whose mind was secretly still on Jimmy, looked up in surprise at the elderly woman who stood before them. "Oh, um, I'll have a Coke."

"Me too," said Cynthia.

"And me," chorused Nikki.

Michelle sat back loftily in her seat. "What sort of champagne do you have?"

The other girls kicked her under the table. The last thing they needed was to get in trouble; their parents didn't even know they were here. She glared back at them, but resignedly said, "Never mind; I'll have a Coke too."

"Should we go talk to them?" Cynthia asked, cocking her head to where the group of boys sat.

"And miss when Tony comes in?" Michelle asked incredulously. "You can settle for the fraternity boys; I'm waiting for our man DiNozzo."

Nikki stuck out her tongue. "You can wait all you want, Michelle, but Tony isn't going to notice you. He doesn't even know your name."

If looks could kills, Michelle's eyes would have shot Nikki dead right there. "He does too!"

"Does not!"

"Does too!"

"Girls!" Abby broke in. "Stop acting like such children! No man will want you if you act like that." She sat up straighter in her seat, turning her nose up just a bit. "Men want mature women; worldly women."

"Since when are you such an expert on it?" asked Cynthia. "You only turned sixteen three months ago."

"Yes, but unlike you, I've been kissed by a man…and older man…"

Her friends exchanged looks. They couldn't argue with her there. So far, Abby was the most experience among them.

Abby's smile of triumph morphed into a wide-eyed gasp. "Oh my goodness!"

"What?" Michelle asked as she swirled around. "Is Tony here?"

"No," Abby groaned as she slumped down in her seat, "it's Jimmy."

Sure enough, the gawky young boy had just entered the building alone, dressed in the same jeans and button-up that he'd been wearing at the rehearsal. With his shoulders hunched and his hands shoved in his pockets it was obvious that he was aware how out-of-place he was.

"What is _he_ doing here?" Nikki asked.

Cynthia shrugged. "Probably the same thing we are."

"He's here to see Tony?"

"No, dum-dum! He's here to hang out."

Abby wasn't listening as she tried to avoid the gaze of her former boyfriend. She nervously looked up…and found that his brown eyes had caught her green ones. He looked at her with so much longing…and she felt her heart pounding so rapidly…so she did the only sensible thing. She jumped up and ran to the table of college boys, plopping down in one of the empty seats and forcing herself to laugh as though one of them had just said something funny. None of them seemed to mind the appearance of a new person at the table.

Jimmy felt his face grow red as he saw his girl—_ex_-girl, he reminded himself glumly—cavorting with a group of boys she didn't even know. Anyone could see that she was only doing it to make him jealous. Well, two could play at that!

A group of older girls were seated at the bar, sipping daintily at their drinks. Jimmy took a seat on an empty stool that was located beside an attractive blonde. "Can I buy you a drink?" he asked.

"You sure can, cutie," the girl said as she finished off the drink she already had. "I'll have a Mai Tai."

As he pulled out his money he realized something. "Um, can you order it and I'll give you the money? I forgot my ID…"

"What does he think he's doing?" Abby asked Cynthia, who, along with Nikki, had joined her at the college boys' table. "He can't talk to her!"

"Why not? You're talking to other guys."

Abby frowned. "Yeah…but that's different!"

"I think someone's a bit jealous," Cynthia whispered to Nikki with a giggle.

Their friend paid them no mind. Instead, she grabbed the hand of the boy closest to her and pulled him out to the dance floor. "Let's dance." It wasn't a request on her part and the boy didn't protest. The two took to the floor like a fish takes to water.

From his spot at the bar Jimmy saw Abby and her dance partner. Not one to be out done, he took the hand of his new friend and led her to the floor. Despite his geeky demeanor, Jimmy could hold his own on the dance floor, much to the delight of his energetic dance partner.

It was like a fight to the death, only with dancing as their weapon instead of fists or knives. Jimmy and Abby kept one eye on their respective dance partners and one eye on each other. Both hoped that the other would crack first and proffer an apology, but neither did. Instead, they channeled their anger and frustrations into the dance, a dance far wilder than the kind they did at the high school socials. This one was untamed and almost savage, like a forbidden dance. Just imagine if their parents could see them!

It was mere minutes after the unspoken dance off began that the man of the night finally entered Maude's. Tony was dressed in black leather pants that were scandalously tight, a red shirt that he wore open to reveal a white T-shirt beneath it, and a leather jacket that matched his pants. His hair was perfectly coiffed, as though he'd spent hours in front of the mirror lovingly sculpting it. He would never admit it to anyone, but that was exactly what he did.

His entrance was met with much excitement on the part of the girls present. Even the older "mature" girls tittered enthusiastically when they saw him, whispering amongst themselves about who he would grace with his presence.

When Abby saw him, a smile broke over her face. If this wouldn't make Jimmy jealous beyond belief, nothing would. "Tony!" she shouted as she ran toward him. "Wow! I didn't know you were going to be here!"

Tony raised an eyebrow as he looked the teenage girl up and down. He chucked her gently beneath the chin. "Hey, kid! What are you doing here?"

"Oh, just hanging out. You know, the usual."

"Aren't you a bit young to be hanging out in a place like this? You're still in high school, right?"

That wasn't the greeting Abby had been expecting. She pouted with disappointment. "Well…yes…but I'm sixteen! I'm practically a woman! And…and you're going to kiss me tomorrow…"

"Yeah, for The Ed Sullivan show. It's a publicity stunt to sell records and ensure that I still have a career when I come back."

Her black lashes fluttered as she looked down at her shoes in embarrassment. "Oh…"

"Hey, kid, it's nothing personal! I mean, you're a cute chick and all, but you're still…well…still a kid!"

Tears sprung into her eyes, stinging them. He thought she was still a kid? She would never live down the humiliation.

Tony felt for the girl. She couldn't help being attracted to him and she was too young to realize that what she felt wasn't love, but a simple crush. He crooked a finger beneath her chin and lifted her head so that she looked him in the eyes. "Look, I'm sure one day you'll make some guy very happy and the two of you will live out whatever fairy tale ending you've got planned. I can tell you, though, that I'm not that guy."

"B…but I'm almost eighteen."

"It's not about age; I just wouldn't be good for you. You want to settle down with some family man and I can't be tamed for that. I've got too much living to do to settle down right now. Get it?"

"Yes," she whispered with a quivering voice.

"Good. Now get out of here before you get into trouble. Go home and get some sleep. You want to look your best tomorrow, right?"

She didn't reply. Tony gave her a kiss on the cheek before walking off to survey the array of appropriate women who were waiting for him. Abby saw him pull a woman at least ten years her senior into his arms. The woman had peroxide blonde hair, a tight top that showed off her generous bust, and impeccably manicured nails with French tips. She looked perfect in Tony's arms, as though she was meant to be there. She probably was. But Abby wasn't.

A hand fell on her shoulder. "Abby? Are you okay?"

Quickly, she wiped away the tears that had begun to fall. She couldn't let Jimmy see her cry. "I'm fine," she said curtly as she pulled away from his touch. "Now if you'll excuse me, Mr. Palmer, I intend to have a good time tonight and I'm afraid I can't do that with you here!"

"Abbs…" She didn't stop at his call. She ran out the door, past Tony's motorcycle parked ostensibly on the front porch of the bar, and out to the sidewalk.

In less than twenty-four hours she'd had the best day and worst night of her life.


	9. Chapter 9

The sign outside proclaimed the words "The Red Rose" in blinking lights, accompanied by the outline of a rose in red lights. Music echoed from within, along with excited chatter. Word around town was that The Red Rose could get pretty wild at night, so it seemed to Tim like the best place to drown his sorrows.

Before he could walk through the door, he was met with a familiar face. It was Jimmy, who was currently being tossed out. "I've told you once," the bartender said, "I've told you a thousand times. Come back when you're 21!"

"C'mon!" Jimmy protested. "Just a little rum or something."

"No means no, kid. Now get home, it must be past your bedtime."

Jimmy scowled indignantly as he walked away, promptly tripping over his own feet. He landed on the ground with a painful sounding "Oof!"

"You okay?" Tim asked as he helped the teen to his feet. He was rewarded with a sour look.

"I was okay until _you_ arrived! My life was great and then you and your rock star had to come in and wreck it all."

Tim winced at the accusation. "Sorry, kid. If it's any consolation I've also managed to wreck my own life in the process. Ziva'll never speak to me again."

"Women," Jimmy intoned. "Can't live with them or without them."

His companion laughed, giving him a friendly pat no the back. "Go, home, Jimmy. You'll feel better in the morning," he said as he walked into The Red Rose, leaving the young man outside with a pout.

The restaurant was the closest he'd felt to New York since he'd arrived in Sweet Apple. There was a semi-circle bar right beyond the door and to the left were private tables and booths, many of which were occupied with couples. Tim grimaced. It reminded him of Ziva. But no worry; a trip or two to the bar would take care of that.

"Could I get a gin tonic, please?" he asked the bartender. "Hold the ice."

"Coming right up, sir."

Tim glanced around the place. It was difficult to see with the lights dimmed so low. The candles which adorned each table cast an eerie glow on the table's occupants. The majority of the others there were young adults, likely newlyweds. In fact, he could only see one table occupied by an older couple. In fact, he thought, the woman looked kind of like… "Mama?"

Indeed, Maureen McGee was seated at one of the secluded tables with a gentleman who looked to be about her age. The two were sharing a drink and, based on the amount of empty glasses that cluttered the table, it wasn't their first. As Tim neared the table, he heard his mother's companion toast. "To Maureen! She's peachy keen!"

"Mama!" Tim chided. "Mama, what are you doing in a place like this?

"Oh, Timmy! Sit, sit," she ordered, patting the seat beside her. "I just met this nice Mr. Yost. He's a widower."

"Hello, Tim," Mr. Yost greeted with a large smile. "Your mother's told me a lot about you."

"Mama, this isn't any place for you!"

"Nonsense, dear. Mr. Yost and I are just playing a nice game of gin rummy."

"While enjoying a few glasses of gin…and rummy," Mr. Yost added.

"And what are _you_ doing here, Timothy?"

The man sighed as he plopped into a seat. "I just needed to get my mind off Zi…um…off of things."

His mother encased him in a tight hug. "Oh, sweetie! Things will be alright! Tony will sing the song and make you lots of money."

"I know, Mama, I know," he muttered as he disentangled himself from her grasp.

"Say…isn't that your secretary…or, should I say, _ex_-secretary?" Maureen asked, gesturing to a dark-haired woman who had just entered the restaurant.

Tim turned and saw the figure in question. Her dark hair was pulled up into a bouffant with a fake diamond clip. The revealing yellow dress she wore beautifully complimented her olive-toned skin. Her brown eyes looked at him and her mouth twitched up into a smirk. "Ziva…" he whispered. But she didn't approach him. Instead, she hopped onto a bar stool, crossing her legs at the knee. Her legs looked lovely.

"Dirty martini," she said to the bartender, "and do not skimp on the vodka!"

The bartender looked the woman over appreciatively. "Yes, ma'am!"

Ziva gave Tim a sideways glance just to make sure he was watching. He was. "Tell me, mister, where can a wild girl like me find herself a good time."

"Well, if you can wait another three hours, I can take you back to my place."

The man repulsed her and the last thing she wanted to do was put herself into a stupid situation. "No," she said sweetly, "I am afraid I can't last that long. I need action now."'

He placed the drink before her, dropping an olive in there. "I'm sure you can find a young fella around here who'd give you a good time."

Ziva removed the olive and suckled on it, getting out all of the alcohol it had managed to absorb during its brief time spent submerged in the drink. She popped it in her mouth, picked up the martini and brought it to her painted lips. She stopped short of taking a sip and looked once more at Tim; he looked back with rapt attention. Then, in one swift movement, she threw the drink back and swallowed the entire thing. It tasted awful, but she kept the serene expression on her face and placed the glass back down on the bar. "Another…no, wait! Make it a Manhattan this time! I need something with a kick!" On the word "kick" she kicked out her leg and popped her hip.

The bartender complied. "Better brace yourself, darlin'. You'll regret this in the morning."

"Ha! I am a woman on a mission!"

"And what mission is that, sweetheart?"

She leaned in to him seductively, ignoring his horrible breath. "To live it up like it is my last day," she whispered. "Now where are these 'young fellas' you mentioned."

"Well, none of them are here now. We do have a meeting of the local Shriners going on in our banquet hall."

"Mmm," she murmured, "what kind of shrine are they looking for? Because I may be able to be of assistance to them in that respect."

"Oh, I don't doubt that," he said as he leered at her. "They may just take you up on your offer."

She plucked the cherry from her drink and performed the same suckling on it that she had on the olive. "So where do I find these available men?" she asked as she fingered the rim of her glass.

He nodded to a couple of men who had just entered. "Follow the red hats."

Ziva turned and saw the men disappear down a set of stairs to a lower level. She downed her Manhattan in a single gulp. Her mind was getting a bit hazy, but she ignored it. "Thank you," she said as she threw down a couple of bills. "But don't close up shop too early. When we come out, those men will be buying me drinks."

Tim watched angrily as Ziva flounced off after a pair of Shriners who had just entered. She was swaying her hips as she walked, an act that he knew meant she was looking for action.

"Mama, I have to go," he said as he shot up. He didn't hear his mother call out to him as he ran down the stairs after Ziva.

The banquet hall had been set up with a few round tables talking up the bulk of the space and a single long table situated at the front. Tim didn't know much about the Shriners, but he had a feeling that the men at the long table were the head Shriners.

Ziva walked confidently into the meeting, not missing a beat when the men quieted. They looked at her with confusion, interest, and more than a little hunger. She smirked, reveling in the attention.

"Can we help you, miss?" asked one of the men. He was seated in the dead center of the long table; Ziva figured he was the guy in charge.

"I was told," she began, propping herself on the edge of the table, "that you men are in the market for a fun, young woman." She brought her legs up and splayed them across the table. "I thought, perhaps, that I could be of assistance to you." She lay back, looking up at the head Shriner with her come hither eyes.

"Miss, this is a meeting of the Shriners…"

"I know," she replied as she reached up a hand and run a finger down the man's silk tie. "And I am here, offering myself to you like a sacrifice. Are you saying you do not want me?"

His face turned red and he began stammering. "We…um…that is…"

"Shh…" she hushed, placing a finger over his lips. She sat up and surveyed the room. "I am on the menu for tonight, boys. Who wants firsts?"

The question was met with cheers and wolf whistles. One of the braver men at the long table placed a tentative hand on her calf while another sprung from his seat and joined her on the table. It made her a bit nervous, but she was in too far to turn back now. "My, but you men know how to make a city girl like myself feel welcome! That," she added, as she tapped one of the men on the tip of his nose, "is why I prefer small towns to the hustle and bustle of New York City. You men know how to appreciate a body like mine." She ran her hand down her side for emphasis. "Now," she continued, pushing herself off the table, "who would like to have the first go round?"

There was a beat and then the men surged forward excitedly, each trying to grab at her. Their enthusiasm startled her, throwing her off kilter. She felt hands everywhere and through the haze in her mind she began to get scared. "Okay," she said uneasily, "let's not be so…um…hasty. One at a time…" But her words fell on deaf ears. Hands wrapped around her and soon she felt she was suffocating in a sea of Shriners, drowning with no life vest on. "Hey! Someone! Please!"

Tim had stood peeking in since the beginning of the ordeal. His anger and jealousy had risen, but hearing Ziva's calls for help was the thing that kicked him into action. He shot in and dove into the pile of Shriners. He shoved his way through them to the center where a panicked Ziva was.

"Ziva!" His rescue mission was halted as a body slammed into his and he fell to the ground with a painful thud.

"Timothy!"

He pushed himself to his hands and knees and crawled through the legs of the Shriners, tripping them as he went, but not caring. He reached Ziva's leg and she grabbed his hand to pull him up. "Hey! Back off!" he yelled to the other men as he pushed himself shakily to his feet. Ziva clung to him and he in turn wrapped a protective arm around her waist. Together they forged through the throng of Shriners. Someone grabbed her leg, forcing Tim to scoop her up in his arms. He then pushed through the crown like a football player runs through the defense. They broke free and he went into a run, all the way up the stairs and out the door to his waiting car. He placed her in the passenger seat, jumped into the driver's seat, and they took off down the road.

Ziva closed her eyes and bade her heart to return to its normal rhythm. She hadn't expected it to get quite so out-of-hand.

"What the heck was that?" Tim asked, a bit breathless himself. "Were you trying to get yourself ravaged?"

"I was just trying to have some fun."

"Yeah? Well, you could have gotten yourself killed! Then what would I have done?"

"You can always get yourself another secretary."

"I don't want another secretary, Ziva. I want _you_! Now can we stop playing games?"

"Who is playing a game, my sweet?" She rubbed her head. That second drink had been a mistake. "Oh, I am so tired."

"Alcohol usually has that effect on people, especially when they down two drinks back to back."

"You were watching me?"

"Watching you? I couldn't keep my eyes off of you!" He glanced sideways at her. "I don't know how anyone can. And besides, I had to make sure you didn't hurt yourself."

Ziva grinned and rested her head on his shoulder. She snuggled up to him tightly. "I did not realize you cared, Timothy."

"Of course I care," he whispered. He relished having her pressed against him like this. It had been too long since he'd had her beside him. "Ziva, I love you! I want to marry you."

"I know…you've been saying that for a while now."

"So let's do it."

"Do what?"

"Get married!"

She sat up and looked at him skeptically. "When?"

"Tonight if you'd like." She laughed. "I mean it! We can elope and drive off to Niagara Falls for a honeymoon."

"You are not serious, are you?"

"Why not? We're in love and that's what you do when you're in love."

"But what about your mother? She would be very disappointed."

"I don't care!" he proclaimed loudly. "Ziva, I'm crazy about you and the idea of spending another day not married to you might just push me over the edge!"

She leaned back in her seat, a smile playing on her lips. "Married…" she whispered.

"So do we find a nice little chapel?"

"No…not tonight. We still have to think about tomorrow. We have invested too much in this to not see it through. But," she added, giving him a peck on the cheek, "after that, I see no reason why we cannot make it legal."

He intertwined his fingers in hers and lifted her hand up for a kiss. "Then tomorrow night we'll have two things to celebrate."

"Two?"

"Our marriage and my retirement from the music writing business. I hear the local high school is in need of a chemistry professor…"


	10. Chapter 10

"…following that, we'll have the Russian Ballet Company performing a piece from their upcoming season," Ed Sullivan read on as the show began. The Gibbs family was standing offstage with the other acts who would be appearing that evening. Tony was in his dressing room, preparing himself and Abby was standing between her parents looking far glummer than another girl in her position would.

"…and we'll end our program this evening with a special tribute to America's hottest rock star, Tony DiNozzo."

At the very sound of their idol's name, the girls in the audience went wild with screams. The fervor of their response surprised even Sullivan himself who paused and let the shouts die out before continuing. "So let's get on with our show with the!"

Jenny looked to her daughter. "Are you nervous, Abby?"

"No, mom, I'm fine," Abby said with a half-smile. The truth was that she was still reeling from the events of the previous evening. She felt embarrassed about the way she had behaved in front of Tony…and in front of Jimmy. The last thing she wanted to do now was kiss the rock singer, but she knew she couldn't back out. Tim and Ziva had put so much work into this and the last thing she wanted to do was ruin it.

"Hey, how's our girl?"

Tim and Ziva entered the backstage area together. They were immeasurably happier than they'd been the previous day; Ziva was positively glowing! They brought a much needed positive energy to the area.

"Are you ready, Abby?" Ziva asked.

"Yes."

Tim looked around. "Where's Tony?"

"He said he had a routine to go through before he could go onstage; some sort of backstage ritual."

"Ah, yes," Tim replied with a roll of his eyes. He was all too familiar with Tony's pre-show ritual. It usually involved hooking up with the cutest backstage attendant he could find. "Well, so long as he's here to go on."

"Have you two figured out the speeches predicament?" Ziva asked Jenny and Mayor Vance.

Jenny immediately jumped in. "We'll split the first minute. I'll go first and then introduce Mayor Vance."

"Actually," the man said in a curt tone, "I think it would be better for me to start things off and then introduce _you_. That way you can introduce Abigail."

It was obvious what was going on. They each knew that the band had been given explicit instructions to start the song after one minute, no matter who was speaking. Whoever went first would be able to speak as long as they wanted, leaving the other with little to no time. Personally, Ziva didn't care who went first; the band would start when they'd been told to and that was all that mattered.

"Do you think we'll be the best act out there?" Abby asked, peeking out at the audience.

Tim gently pulled her back, lest the audience—or cameras!—catch sight of her. "I can guarantee it. We're competing with Russian ballerinas, some three-piece suit from Washington, and a plate spinner. It's no contest."

She nodded. Despite her insistence that she wasn't nervous, she felt her heart palpitating violently within her chest. She reminded herself to inhale deep breaths…and to exhale them, of course.

"Hey, kid."

Abby visibly jumped at the voice as she emitted a small noise of surprise. She turned to find Tony standing there, giving her a sly grin. He was donning his usual gold jumpsuit, though it looked a bit disheveled than it had before. In fact, his hair looked a bit messier as well.

"Ready for our big moment?"

Despite her reticence, Abby forced a smile on her face. "You bet! Are you nervous about singing?"

"Me nervous?" He laughed. "I've been doing this a long time. I don't get nervous."

"Uh, Tony…" Tim cut in, directing the rock star away from Abby. "You may want to give yourself a once over in the mirror. Maybe straighten your hair a bit."

"Good call, McGee!" the man replied as he hurried off to find a mirror.

Tim felt two arms wrap around his waist from behind. Ziva's voice was in his ear. "Calm down, my love, or else you will have a heart attack." She pressed her lips against his neck. "I'd hate for you to die before we tie the knot."

He offered a wry grin. "I suppose an emergency room wouldn't be the best place for a honeymoon, huh?"

"DiNozzo and company," one of the production assistants called, "you're on in five!"

The group tittered amongst themselves; even Abby got excited about appearing on TV. Jenny and Mayor Vance sought out mirrors to quickly check their appearances while Tim and Ziva staked out a spot in the wings to watch the show.

"Now," Sullivan announced, following the performance from the Russian Ballet Company, "our next guess is a young man who has captured the hearts of women all around the country. Now the country has called on him for quite a different purpose and one lucky girl is going to see him off! Please welcome, Tony DiNozzo and Abigail Gibbs!"

They entered, followed closely by Jenny and Mayor Vance. The latter two were still trying to get in the first word, and ultimately the mayor won.

"As the Mayor of Sweet Apple—an office I've held for the past three years—it is my honor to welcome Mr. DiNozzo to our humble yet wonderful town! I know elections are coming up, so let me take this moment to remind you that I have done great things for this town, such as bringing celebrities here to boost tourism. Also, I—"

"He wants to promote the rise of Women's Liberation that is sweeping our nation," Jenny interrupted, stepping forward and pushing him aside. "As a proud member of the Sweet Apple Women's Lib chapter, I want to encourage all of you women out there to stand up against repression! Together, we can make a change!

"Yes," Sullivan said uncertainly, "well, that's wonderful. And the song?"

Tony jumped right in before either Jenny or Mayor Vance could continue. "That's right, Eddie! This is a little something my friend Tim wrote. I'll be going off soon, fighting for our country. But before that happens, I'd like to sing this for all of the women who will be heartbroken to see me go." He gave the band a nod and the music started up. From the audience came a rush of girls and women. They surrounded the stage, trying to get as close to their idol as they could.

As the song progressed, Tony played to Abby who, in turn, stood there awkwardly, no longer enjoying his attention. He would take a step toward her…and she would take one back. He would lean in…she would turn away. He wasn't her idol anymore. Now she knew that kind of man she wanted.

Tim stood with Ziva, watching with delight as their plans went off without a hitch. The song was being sung on TV and soon Tony would seal it with a kiss. "You know," he whispered to his bride-to-be, "I think that this may have been the best idea you ever had; aside from marrying me, of course."

"We haven't quite reached the altar yet," she teased.

"We'll get there soon enough," he promised. "Now I was thinking…" He stopped short as something caught his attention. There was movement on the other side of the stage. "Is…is that…?"

"Jimmy!" Ziva hissed.

Sure enough, the young boy was stealthily making his way to the stage with a determined look on his face. His narrowed eyes were on Tony who was reaching the end of his song. The kiss was near…Tony was leaning in…

Jimmy tapped the rock star on the shoulder. When Tony turned, Jimmy landed a punch right on his jaw, knocking him to the floor…on national TV.

The previously happy couple said three words in unison. "Oh, my God…"


	11. Chapter 11

"Well…it was memorable, was it not?"

Tim gave Ziva a weary smile. "Not quite the way I'd planned."

Jimmy's punch ended the spot and the production staff, uncertain what else to do, cut to commercial while Tony, Abby, and Jimmy were ushered off. Tony was brought to a back room to be tended to by on-hand medic and Abby and Jimmy were escorted out to the lobby along with Abby's parents and Mayor Vance.

And that had been that.

"One punch," Tim muttered. "Who knew the kid even had it in him?"

Ziva rested her head on his shoulder. "I guess this won't do much for the song."

It was true; the song would forever be associated with Tony being knocked out by a kid half his size in muscle. That kid had very possibly brought Tony's heartthrob status to an end. Without Tony, Tim's song was nothing.

"Ah, well," he said as he pulled her closer against him. "I'm done with the music business anyway. I've got you and I've got my Chemistry degree. Who needs anything more?"

She nuzzled his neck. "I must admit, I am quite pleased with the way things turned out. Not only for us, but for Abby and Jimmy as well."

The teens had reconciled after Jimmy's punch. Abby had immediately embraced him, claiming she'd been hypnotized by Tony's swaying hips. She thanked him for rescuing her, as though she'd been a poor damsel in distress locked in a tower with Tony as the fire-breathing dragon guarding her. She didn't seem at all broken up about not being kissed on TV.

"Yeah," Tim agreed. "Maybe it was better that it happened this way. Those two kids deserve each other and I'd hate to think I was responsible for breaking them up."

"What do you think will happen to Tony?"

He shrugged. "Hard to tell."

"Timothy!"

The voice rang out clearly in the empty theater, startling the comfortable couple. Soon, Mama Mallard was running down the aisle toward them with an energy they'd never before seen in her. "Oh, Timothy, you poor baby! I just heard the news! Isn't it just awful?"

"Oh, it's not so bad, Mama."

"Not so bad? Your song is ruined! No one will want a song sung by some guy with a glass jaw! Now, baby, will you finally listen to Mama and get out of the music business? You've got that degree in Chemistry that's just wasting away!"

The comment stunned both Tim and Ziva. They exchanged perturbed glances, wondering if they'd heard correctly. "Mama, you told me—"

"I hear the high school needs a Chemistry teacher!" she continued on. "You could get that! A nice, comfy job; one that doesn't have unpleasant surprises."

Tim shrugged, not wanting to argue. "Sure, Mama, I'll look into it."

"And would you and Ziva finally settle down and give me some grandchildren?"

If the woman's first comment had stunned the couple, this one left them completely speechless. Was this the same Mama McGee that had been trying to keep them apart for the past seven years? "Mrs. McGee…are you serious?" Ziva asked.

"Of course, I'm serious Ziva! You're a lovely girl and Timothy is a dolt for not having asked you sooner! And please, call me Maureen."

"Mama! What's gotten into you?" Tim asked. "I've never seen you like this!"

The woman beamed. "Oh, Timmy, I guess I should tell you now."

"Tell me what?"

"You remember that nice Mr. Yost from last night? Well, one thing led to another and we decided to get married!"

Tim's eyes bulged. "M-m-married?"

"We eloped last night," she said with a grin. "Oh, I wish you could have been there! But I knew you were busy planning all of this and I didn't want to worry you."

Ziva did something she'd never thought she would ever do; she hugged Maureen McGee. "Congratulations!"

"Thank you, dear! Now you two had better hurry! Mr. Yost doesn't have any children and I'm sure he'd love a grandchild or two."

"Maureen!"

Mr. Yost was at the door of the theater, beckoning to his new wife. Tim gave the man a nervous wave. "That's great, Mama, honest it is."

"Well, I'd better go! Ernie and I are taking a little vacation together." She pushed herself up and kissed her soon upon his cheek. "Remember, Timothy! Chemistry is the best career for you!" she called out as she waddled off to her new husband.

Tim sat dumbfounded as his mother walked off with the man. The exchange between the three of them had only lasted minutes, but it felt like it had lasted hours. "Well…I'll be darned!"

"It seems the best medicine for your mother was one of the simplest," Ziva commented. "She only needed what all warm-blooded women needed."

"Is it what you need?"

"Would I be here with you like this if it wasn't?" she asked in a teasing tone.

He leaned down and kissed her softly on the lips. "Where now, the future Mrs. McGee?"

Ziva wrapped her arms around him and pulled him down for a longer kiss. When she pulled away, his eyes were glazed over. "Now, Mr. McGee, I think it is time to move on to the next chapter in our life."

Unbeknownst to them, another happy couple was watching them from the shadows of the theatre. Jimmy and Abby were sitting together in the last row, snuggled together in joyous reconciliation. "Do you think we'll ever be as happy as they are?" Abby whispered to him. She found the entire thing so romantic, like something out of a movie.

Jimmy responded by slinging his arm around her and pulling her closer. "I hope so, Abby…I hope so."

The torrent of Tony DiNozzo had come and gone, leaving in its wake two very happy couples.

* * *

**AN:** And that's my story! Thanks for reading :)


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